


forgiveness (it's a lesson in itself)

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [101]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Kane and Bellamy can't forgive themselves + one time they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forgiveness (it's a lesson in itself)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Future canon-verse with Kane & Bellamy. Either one thinking about the other ("I hope Kane is still alive and he won't be forever disappointed." "I hope my Pike resistance is chip-free, and my favorite son is ok." Except less tongue-and-check.) OR Kane & Bellamy repairing their relationship. I have a mighty need for more delinquent dad!Kane who just wants to teach his favorite son how to take care of others and be happy, and I'm afraid I won't get it from canon!!

**i.**

Three things happened all at once: Clarke sat down, Kane walked in the room, and Bellamy tensed. She watched cautiously as Bellamy’s gaze locked on his half-full plate and Kane’s gaze avoided their table. Biting her lip, she wondered if this was going to be the day. The day when Bellamy wouldn’t get up and leave, when Kane would come over and say something–anything–that would break this awful tension.

They had been back at camp for over a month now, and neither man could be in the same space for long. Bellamy’s bruises had long since faded, and Kane no longer avoided routes in the Ark that took him by lockup. Even so, they stayed away from each other.

_Kane almost died because of me,_ he told her with slurred words one night after they finally got that drink he had asked for so long ago. _He almost got a bullet in the head, like Lincoln. Because of me._

Despite trying to convince him otherwise, Clarke knew Bellamy still carried around the guilt of that _almost_ –along with so many other things, just like her–and refused to let it go. Even when she saw Kane stare at Bellamy’s neck and go pale, even when she saw him so hesitant to touch anyone and instead choosing to ball his hands into fists at his sides.

Clarke caught her mother’s eye across the room and sent her a grim smile. Abby had been watching the two men just as closely recently, and though they never spoke of it (they didn’t speak of a lot of things, not even now), they both wanted the same thing. Forgiveness, not for or from themselves, but from the men who stood by their sides through war and now in peacetime. Glancing at Bellamy, who was gathering up his plate and cup quickly, Clarke reached over to lay a staying hand on his arm.

“I’ve got weapons training to lead,” he said immediately. “Got to get the area prepped.”

“You did that this morning,” Clarke replied as she tightened her grip.

Bellamy glared at her then jerked away. “Stop micromanaging Clarke.”

“You haven’t finished eating.”

“I’m full.”

“ _I_ haven’t finished eating, and we’re on the training schedule together today, remember?”

He hesitated, and she knew she had him. She added, “I’ll be quick. I promise.”

She even shoveled an extra big bit into her mouth, half-grinning at him as she chewed rapidly. He threw her a disgruntled look but stayed put. He didn’t eat anything else, just pushed his food around his plate with shoulders raised tensely, but here he was, in the same room with the man he looked up to, the man he thought he betrayed.

It was a start.

* * *

**ii.**

Abby handed Marcus her tablet without looking at him. “Here’s the schedule for next week’s perimeter patrol.”

She busied herself with looking for their latest territory map as she waited for him to scan it. He didn’t say a word, not until he got to the bottom of the list. Then he protested exactly as she expected him to once he had seen his name next to Bellamy’s.

“Rearranging the patrol pairs isn’t a good idea,” he argued. “We made the original pairs for a reason, to make the strongest and safest groups for–”

“It’s time for a change,” Abby interrupted, staring him down.

“Who made the schedule?” He pressed, knowingly. His expression was half-frustrated, half-pained, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out as smooth the worry lines from his forehead.

“I did,” she admitted. “And it’s time, Marcus.”

“No.”

“It’s time,” she repeated.

He shifted away as she walked over, but she ignored his cautious avoidance of being too near someone, just as she had ever since their return from Polis. Reaching up, she cupped his face and forced him to look into her eyes. “It’s time for you to forgive yourself. Bellamy is alive and so are you. Forgive yourself, so he can forgive himself. You both need this. Please.”

“How can I–those bruises, Abby, my hands did that–I just–”

She shushed him, wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. “What do you think I feel every time I see the scars on Clarke’s chest? I did that to my own daughter. My _daughter._ Do you think I’ll ever forget that it was my hand’s that caused that? But then I look up and see her smiling, see her being okay, or at least trying to be, and I have to move forward because I need to be there for her. I can’t let myself wallow in my own guilt, as much as I want to. As much as I should. I need to be there for her because what if one day I can’t be? So be there for Bellamy, Marcus.”

He sighed and dropped his head into her hands, the tablet pressed between them as she pulled him into a hug.

“Be there for him,” she murmured again. “It’s the best thing you could give him now.”

* * *

**iii.**

From the front seat of the rover, Monty watched the two dark-haired men walk silently into the woods. The ride to drop off Marcus and Bellamy at the starting point of their patrol route had been tense. He felt a bit nervous leaving them alone, but as Kane and Bellamy disappeared among the trees, he had no choice but to start the engine to get to him and Nate to their own route.

“Jesus,” Nate muttered under his breath. “I don’t know if I’m more glad they’re gone ‘cause I feel like I can breathe again, or if I’m more worried one or both of them won’t come back.”

“Clarke said they’d be fine,” Monty reassured him as he turned the rover around.

“Clarke says a lot of things.”

“It was Abby’s idea, you know.”

Nate snorted, and Monty sighed. “Even your dad signed off.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“So are they just supposed to avoid each other forever then?”

Nate shrugged. “They each almost killed each other on separate occasions. That shit doesn’t resolve itself with just one walk through the woods.”

Monty felt his stomach roll nauseously, because he knew too well how heavy and long the guilt of harming a loved one can hang on a person’s soul.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Nate said quietly.

Monty just tightened his grip on the steering wheel and pressed the gas a little faster. “We’ve all done horrible things. And we can’t change that. But it’s also a horrible thing is if we let it drag us under, especially when we’re the only ones blaming ourselves. They need a chance to let themselves stop drowning in guilt. Even if for now all they can manage is just a walk in the woods.”

“Okay,” Nate murmured. “Okay.”

* * *

**+i.**

Nate stopped dead in the yard as he watched Kane pass Bellamy his gun to bring back to storage. Bellamy didn’t hesitate taking the weapon, and then–and _then_ –Kane clapped Bellamy on the shoulder.

That was fucking progress. Nate watched Bellamy’s eyes widen in surprise. Kane paused as he realized what he had done as well, but then the slightest smile formed on his face. He nodded to Bellamy, who nodded back.

Bellamy’s chest deflated with a large exhale. Nate watched as his friend tracked Kane making his way back to the Ark, and he had to look away from the raw relief that was on Bellamy’s face. The flash of a memory–handcuffs clicking open, breathing in stale underground air, the sensation of his father’s arms wrapping tightly around him–made his throat tighten. Nate wondered if he looked as young and vulnerable and fucking _relieved_ when he was reunited with his father as Bellamy did right now watching Kane walk away.

The ringing sound of children laughing startled him out of his daze. Nate shook his head to clear his thoughts, and then jogged over to Bellamy.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he asked, catching up just as he was heading into the weapons lockup. “You wanna go in?”

“Yeah. I’m starving. Just gotta check these in,” Bellamy replied.

Nate waited until they were almost back to the Ark to ask, “So, you had a good patrol?”

Bellamy immediately began to grin. “Yeah. It was easy.”

“So, good day?” Nate prodded.

Bellamy threw him an odd look but laughed off his curiosity. “Yes. It was a pretty good day.”

Ducking his head to hide his own smile, Nate followed his friend into the loud dining hall, not missing the way Bellamy didn’t look away–didn’t even lose his grin–when Kane nodded to them from across the room.

That was more than just progress–that was forgiveness, for each other and for themselves.


End file.
